Worries and Sleep Do not Mix
by ShadowCloak
Summary: Jin’s thoughts are too scattered to be sorted for a night's sleep. chaos tries to distract Jin from his thoughts to get him to sleep. Jin's POV. Takes place during Ep.III.


Takes place during Ep. III. Know up to the scene when the party learns of the red Testament's identity. That's just so Jin's thoughts make more sense. It's also been awhile since I've played through the series so some details maybe a bit off. (Like I don't quite remember the Elsa's bedroom layout.)

Summary: Jin's thoughts are too scattered to be sorted for a night's sleep. chaos tries to distract Jin from his thoughts to get him to fall asleep.

Disclaimer: I don't own these characters.

The story is told from Jin's POV.

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Sleep won't come when I can't get my mind to sit still. It's been wandering around too much. With one unexplainable event after another, I have spent too much thinking on these events which have not provided solutions, but more questions and worries.

My eyes are half open; too awake to keep them closed, but too tired to keep them fully open. The Elsa's bed which we're sitting on, against the headboard, briefly registers in my mind. I'm sure it's my bed but there's a possibility it's not. The room is dark and lined with other empty beds. The only source of light is emitted by a soft, calming bedside light coming from my left. The light dimly illuminates pages of a book, an old novel, being held by orange and black gloved hands in my lap. The page is flipped once again by the dark gloved hand so the eyes of the reader can speak the words laid down on the page to the listener. His voice is quiet as he delicately speaks each word as a dusting brush would touch an old antique. I, the intended listener of these words, was not listening to them. His words are ruffled sounds, incoherent to my ears coming from behind my back.

I know why he is reading out loud. The reading is meant to distract me from my head, my thoughts. I've seen him reading to Jr. before, at times when Jr. has had too much on his mind. Just like mine is now. Jr.'s fascination for older books keeps his mind distracted from his worries so he can fall asleep as he listens to chaos reading from his books. Much like how a parent would read a bedtime story to a child before bed. Right now, the old book holds no interest. My mind is focused on my worries. Everyone's worries. Worries brought into bloom stemming from my sister. That's where I assume everyone is now, trying to get through Shion's problems. Except me, Shion's brother. And chaos.

Tonight, I turn my head away from the light that feels harsher, as if pulling at the edges of my mind, piercing me just like those green eyes of my sister. Her confusion at _his_ words. Her hope against all logic that defines this world. Her frustration at me for stopping her. A desire for the past; to fix where things went wrong.

The past…We at least share similar feelings about that topic. The memory neither of us wanted to remember; our parents' death. I'm sure Shion can still recall the broken and mutilated body of father crushed against the wall, the blood soaked body of mother with her blood dripping from the once white sheets and into her tiny hand. Neither of us wanted to watch it replay over and over in our minds, which it did weeks after the incident. It was something neither of us would forget. Aside from their deaths, we both had relationships of our own we wish we could have kept.

Pellegri. Maybe she could be here instead, with me, helping me through my family issues, if the past had played out differently. I know that time has passed for me to be with Pellegri and if it were to ever happen again it could only be classified as a miracle. But had Shion felt that way long after _his _death? No one should be able to come back from death like that. Not like how _he_ did.

I lean further back into his chest behind me, against the headboard of the bed with pillows propped up. I try to concentrate on the vibrations on my back. To sort out the patterns of the rumbles to form words, sentences, meanings.

No, the meanings don't matter. Nor the warmth wrapped around my torso. The attempt at comfort tonight is non-existent to me. Not with…

Shion. My thoughts won't stay away. I can't be a brother to Shion, anything close to that. I know who you want to be with, but I feel that it's not right for you to go.

What about Allen, Shion? Hasn't he done enough for you? Can't you see behind his actions? He cares for you Shion. He, however, like myself, can't seem to get that through to your head. Sometimes preventing is a form of care. Your friends all care.

I found it strange that you open up to KOS-MOS, an android. Her silence and obedience seem to appeal to you more than us who discuss what is better for you. But you created her, in a way she is your child, someone you need to look after. Instead your "child" seems to look after you. Do you also stay close the android because she reminds you of the one who began to create KOS-MOS?

My mind is pulled out from my thoughts by a shift behind me. The rumbles stop. I look down at the book held in my lap by the two dark gloves. The hands are still now. I turn a bit to my left, but not enough to look into the light of the bedside lamp.

His head moves forward and I glimpse a wisp of silver at the edge of my vision as he says my name softly. He rests his chin on my shoulder as he closes the book so quietly that I feel it close instead of hearing it close. I feel his body lean away as the book gets transferred to the bedside table. A click, barely audible, registers to my ears as the light goes away.

He pulls us back against the headboard with pillows, still keeping me propped up as he mumbles something about rest. Maybe about how he needs to rest now. Or me. Probably the both of us.

With the light gone, it feels easier to close my eyes. This body feels worn out, as if it has lived for too long, been through too many battles, physical and mental. This exhaustion makes me feel that when I fall asleep, I will sleep forever. As if no amount of rest will make me wake again.

His head is back on my shoulder, I feel his head against my own. I slide down a bit; his head ends up resting a little on top of mine now. He shifts his arms, which are still wrapped around me, to make us more comfortable, secure.

Only now I recognize his warmth, his comfort, and his relaxed breaths. I remember holding Shion much like how he is holding me now. I recall reading to her, when she was younger, to keep her fears away from her so she could sleep at night. She was not fond of stormy clouds at night before the Miltian Conflict. We would be caught in a nest of blankets and pillows, and she would cling to me until she fell asleep. That is something, I decided, I missed doing. While she is too old physically for something like that now, her mind desperately needs that kind of comfort. There is too much turmoil in her head lately to have her sort it out alone.

He hasn't moved. He is still holding this tired body of mine. Everything about him is unknown. Not a book I have read contains enough mystery to match chaos. His appearance hasn't changed from when I first saw him. At the time, I thought why has such a young person been sent down to Miltia?

When I saw him again, fourteen years later, in Miltia, I thought I was seeing a fragment of my past standing beside my sister. Time had no affect on his appearance. But, when I looked beyond his appearance and into his eyes, I knew time had taken affect on him. There was a huge depth he had in his eyes that I had not expected. Almost a depth I would have expected my grandfather to have held. Except chaos' was deeper; chaos held a library whereas my grandfather would have been a series of books, occupying half a shelf.

He was older than he appeared. In a way he was like a realian, who don't physically age with time. But chaos is not a realian. Nor is he completely human. So then, what is he?

He has fallen asleep. I can still feel his arms wrapped around me, more relaxed now that he is asleep.

I felt like a child in protective arms. As if I wasn't past thirty and chaos didn't appear to be sixteen. I could feel a vast space surround my mind, quieting it down, calling for sleep. So vast like the depth he has to his eyes, I would be lost in all the unknown amount of years he has lived, unable to comprehend all the knowledge he holds.

chaos always appears to know what is happening for everything, as if he can see the bigger picture of the universe. He doesn't always choose to provide an answer, much less an explanation. I'm glad that he has given one for troubled minds trying to find sleep.

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This idea came to me the other day and I tried to write it how it appeared in my mind. However, having been a day between when it first appeared in my head and now, and considering I haven't written any fanfiction in a long time, (this could be my first; I don't remember if I wrote something else before, not on anyways,) so it's not as coherent as I thought it might be.

Reviews are very much welcomed.


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